The Days were cursed when gybe of akin
Bond were confined, thou compelled him to thee will,
Treachery define thee as my reason to cry,
Your eyes denoted evil in our first summer,

With warm hands I took you as my own,
You were dispatched to excavate the pain I ever wanted to feel,
You extirpated us since from the winter
With your eager to whack innocent souls,
You are obliged to your intent demigod,

My parents divorced for him to be your own,
He cries for his past that denoted ardour as you tear him apart,
If there is any part of you as human I doubt it,
You are cranky to know his secret those are your differences,
He is warm and you’re cold